


Superglue

by Writing-Classic-Rock (writingfanfic)



Category: The Who
Genre: F/M, I just winced, The two aren't related, Vaginal Fingering, superglue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 07:20:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10238870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-Classic-Rock
Summary: For the prompt: 'How about an imagine where the reader and Keith moon get stuck in the same room together for a few hours? (Nsfw)'Keith and superglue is not a good pairing... well, mostly.





	

_“…because you put superglue in the lock, Keith!_ ”

You put your head in your hands, and outside, you hear Pete sighing. Keith, for his part, looks gleefully smug with himself – you fold your arms and glare at him from your perch on the table.

“C’mon, it was funny!” he laughs, and you look at him in disbelief.

“We’re locked in the practise room.”

“But it was _funny_!” He grabs your hands, and you glare at your boyfriend. “Come on, love, it was hilarious…” You roll your eyes, and he kisses you, hard. “Come on. Smile.”

“I still don’t know how we got here,” you mutter, and there’s a call from outside.

“ _We’re going to get this sorted, alright? Apparently if we kick down the door they’ll never give us our deposit back._ ” You sit down and put your head in your hands as you hear Pete go, and then you feel Keith take your hands.

“I’m sorry. Well, I’m not sorry for doing it, because it was fucking hilarious.” You can’t help but feel your mouth twitch; after all, if this sort of thing was a surprise to you, you wouldn’t be dating Keith Moon, would you? “But I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

“I’m not upset. I just panicked a little.” You sigh. “Honestly. Why did you superglue the door shut?” Keith shrugs, and kisses you, a little softer this time. “…that doesn’t surprise me.”

“Guess what,” he murmurs, and you raise an eyebrow. “Nobody can get in.”

“…I know,” you say, slowly, and he rolls his eyes.

“Nobody can _get in_ ,” he says, a little louder.

“…I know?” you repeat, slowly, and he gestures to the door. “…because you… glued the door shut?”

“ _Nobody but us can get into the bloody room._ ” He grabs your cheeks and squeezes them in a loving manner. “That means nobody can…” He pauses and waits, and you wonder what exactly it is you’re not getting. “…interrupt…?”

 _Click_. The puzzles pieces slot into place, and you go from bewildered to mildly annoyed to accepting as Keith begins to kiss your neck. Of course that’s where Keith’s mind’s gone.

“Keith, what if they get bored and break down the door?” you ask, and he smiles against your throat, before nipping at the skin there.

“Well, we’ll have to be quick, love…” He pushes you back down on the table you are seated on, and as he straddles you your smirk grows a little. “I think we can do it…” You roll your eyes, and then giggle as his hand slides up your shirt. “I mean… what’s life without the odd quickie here and there?”

“Keith,” you sigh, and he kisses you again, biting at your lips – you finally give in and let it happen. It would hardly be the first time you were caught – and you feel his fingers slide under the waistband of your jeans.

“(Y/N),” he says, gently pinching the skin of your neck between his teeth. “Rawrrrgh.” You giggle, and he grins, and then presses his fingers against you – you tense up, smile leaving your face as you gasp, and he kisses up your jawline before tugging your earlobe gently with his teeth as his fingers slide into you. You moan, and then flush as you wonder if anybody is outside and heard that. “C’mon, love. Moan for me…”

You do, louder, and he grins.

“Good girl…”

There’s a thud from the door, and you turn your head to look at it, eyes wide; then Keith’s fingers wrap around your jaw and he turns you to face him.

“Touch me.” It’s more a command than a request, and you fumble with his belt for a moment, cursing under your breath. “So ladylike…” He growls under his breath as you manage to open his trousers enough to slide your hand in, and as you stroke his erection, he manoeuvres his thumb to your clit, making you arch against him. “Fuck yes…” The way he hisses the word in an exhale makes you smirk even as you moan again.

“ _…oh, they aren’t, are they?_ ” you hear John say, despairingly, and giggle before Keith grunts something in your ear. It sounds vaguely loving, although you’re not entirely sure. You hear someone you don’t know – maybe a locksmith – murmur something back and then Pete replies.

“ _…typical…_ ”

“Faster, baby…” Keith pants in your ear, and you speed up your strokes, enjoying the way his hips grind against yours and force his hand harder against you. The table you are on is creaking – you’d be way more concerned about this if you weren’t very confident in the quality of superglue that was holding it, and most of the other things in the room, together.

“Lighter,” you moan – he’s getting a little too into it, and as the circles his thumb is drawing on your clit become a little less intense, fingers still sliding into you – good multitasker – you feel a heady tingle arrive from between your thighs. “God, there…”

He grunts in return – you think he says ‘harder’ but you can already tell by his ruddy cheeks and the way his eyes screw up that he’s getting closer as well, and you know him well enough by now to know how to touch him.

“ _…if you get the door open, I’d knock first_.”

“They’re gonna get in,” you murmur, your anxiety at being walked in on allaying your orgasm for a moment, and Keith responds by sinking his teeth slowly and deliberately into your shoulder, making you whimper and then gasp. “Keith…”

“Come on, baby, I want to feel you shake…” he urges, the most vocal you think he’s ever been during sex, and you concentrate on chasing the feeling that his fingers are causing, feeling the heat flood your body as he stretches you wider.

“Keith,” you gasp, trying to keep your strokes uniform and not falter, but you feel so good – he’s thrusting into your hand anyway, and you let yourself go. “Keith, baby, I’m gonna come…”

He says nothing, but his thrusts speed up, and you tip your head back as waves of pleasure overwhelm you and you tighten around his fingers, the bite-mark on your collarbone aching as you whimper his name. A few seconds later and you feel stripes of heat along your wrist and hand suddenly as Keith grinds his hips against you desperately, gutturally stuttering your name.

“…that’s not superglue,” he says, after a few seconds of heavy breathing, and you close your eyes. “…moment ruined?”

“…very,” you sigh, and he kisses you. “…you… ew.” You wipe what you can off on his boxers before he does up his trousers, and there is a knock on the door as you do up your own jeans.

“ _…if we open this door, what’re we going to see?_ ”


End file.
